


Dying to Try

by theshipstorulethemallwrites



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipstorulethemallwrites/pseuds/theshipstorulethemallwrites
Summary: Being brought back to life comes from Jon





	

Sansa’s been kissed before and she’s accepted that she’ll never have the fairytale type of kiss, the life changing type of kiss that she dreamed about as a more innocent girl. But sometimes, sometimes, the way Jon looks at her makes her believe that she could have more than just blood and burdens. His gaze, the way his eyes trace her body, light her on fire just as much as it sends shivers down her spine. He makes her the personification of ice and fire and what she feels for him terrifies her. It’s something more than just desire, an ache, it’s more than just a yearning to be loved, the scar of loneliness. What it is indescribable and more than anything Sansa’s ever felt before. 

She wanders out to the grove of winter roses, the blue flowers that she once dreamed would crown as a Queen of Love and Beauty but now only hold pain and sorrow and the mistakes of a idiot child who didn’t realize that the world was cruel. She almost turns back when she sees Jon, sword sheathed standing in the grove, looking at the flowers like they are a ghost, something haunting him.

“Jon?” 

He looks up at her, his eyes pained and she wants to comfort him, she wants to banish the pain from his eyes the same way he let her kill her curse. He’s given her so much in comparison to how little she’s given him and she would like to make their relationship one of equals again. 

“Sansa.” He says, inclining his head to her before letting a sigh. 

“If you would like, I can leave you be.”

God, he’s so. He’s so Jon. There’s really no other way to describe him, his kindness and sense of honor and his power. She knows that she’s falling in love with him and she can’t let him know because that would just mess everything up forever and she can’t lose him. She can’t. 

“No.” she responds and that’s it, he stays and she sits on the stump that her father carved for her mother when she was pregnant with Sansa or that’s the story she was told by her parents. He stands, awkwardly, looking as though he wishes he could be anywhere but here. He almost turns to leave as she starts singing as she gathers some flowers, twisting them together like rope. Because she can crown herself as queen, she doesn’t need anyone else to do it for her. 

“Stay here, please?” she requests and he finally, finally sits down next to her. He’s so close she can almost feel the warmth from his body and she can see his breath, coming out in little puffs. She wants him more than she’s wanted anything else. They can’t stay in this precarious relationship, trusting each other but both holding back and she knows that she has make the first move but what?

What could she possibly do that wouldn’t scare him off? She looks down at the flower crown and grins at him. 

“Crown me?” She asks him softly and he almost falls off the rock as he looks at her. He takes a deep breath, one Sansa can feel reverberating through her body, and takes the crown from her hands. He smooths her hair out and she shivers even though she feels like she’s burning the more he touches her. And then he places the crown of flowers on her head and breathes out, “ _Beautiful_.”

His mouth stays open in a gasp and his eyes feel like they are consuming her whole and she wants to say screw taking this slowly and just kiss him. But he does the one thing that could surprise her after all she’s seen, he leans forward. 

Timid, wonderful, heroic, Jon Snow. The man who saved her in so many ways, most of all by breathing fire back into her icy veins. He makes the first move and brushes his lips against so softly and quickly she doesn’t realize it’s happening until it’s over. But that brush, that touch, it was enough that she pulls him back in because she wants this. Heaven help her, she needs this. 

She kisses him, hard and long and she feels as though she finally alive when he kisses back. His hands move to grasp her hair, pulling her closer to him as their lips fuse together. Her hand reaches into the nape of his neck, tangling in the curly strands that fall there. His hair feels soft and wonderful against her hand and she swears that she can feel everything. She pulls back, needing to breath and rests her forehead against his. 

His lips press against hers, open and welcoming and it’s hot and slick and messy. Her hand that isn’t gripping his hair, pulling him closer still, she doesn’t want to know where she ends and he begins, that hand is holding his. Fingers interlocked, palms pressed against each other. He groans in her mouth, sounding just as helpless as she feels. She pulls back, the need to breath finally winning out in her struggle to keep him with her aways. She’s touched starved, she thinks that’s the word her mother used, because every nerve in every place his body has been is burning, she feels like a flame that will only remain hot as long as he keeps touching her. No one else’s touch has ever felt this, this consuming, this explosive. He’s clearly feeling the same way because he keeps his eyes on her as he sucks in a breath before pulling her back into his orbit. It’s not like she really ever left but the feel of him, his hands, his lips, it’s tugs her to a place she’s only heard about in stories.

She loves him, she needs him and she wants to tell him but this moment, this moment right here, is enough. Knowing that he wants her back is more than enough and as she rests against him, wrapped in his arms, utterly overwhelmed she feels safe and worthy. She reaches up and presses a kiss to his cheek before she walks off.  She feels a smile, foreign yet freeing, playing on her lips as she returns back to her room. 

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Mer for this  
> This is my first Jonsa fic.
> 
> find me on < href="http://the-ships-to-rule-them-all.tumblr.com">tumblr


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